


you smell strongly of strawberries (or maybe it's just the color of your hair)

by duravis



Category: Blue Lock (Manga)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Excessive Divine References, Kissing, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, aka the inherent homoeroticism of communal showers, briefly, it's. heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duravis/pseuds/duravis
Summary: In which Kunigami Rensuke comes to Blue Lock with the intention of becoming the world's best striker, but is presented with opportunities vastly different than what he had imagined.He never planned to meet Chigiri Hyouma. He never planned to have desires outside the dimensions of a soccer field.(But some events are fated, as they are when two gods cross paths.)
Relationships: Kunigami Rensuke/Chigiri Hyoma
Comments: 31
Kudos: 108





	you smell strongly of strawberries (or maybe it's just the color of your hair)

**Author's Note:**

> self-indulgent kunigiri brainrot hit me at like 2am last night and proceeded to hold me at gunpoint until I could churn this out properly so. enjoy.

Kunigami Rensuke doesn’t know what he looks for in a person.

Sexually or romantically or whatever-the-fuck, that is.

He is aware that he is objectively good looking himself. His figure is one packed to the brim with muscle, practically stretching from the skin on his heels to the hair on his head. He very much likes being strong – the strongest in the room, if he can be – and his body undoubtedly shows the fruits of his labor.

His body, as cliché as it may be, has more or less become his temple – one which he alone has built from the ground up after years of intense exercise and training, day-in and day-out. It is grueling. He hates the smell of his own sweat. But the physical proof of his efforts thread itself into fine fibers beneath his skin, smooth and firm to the touch, just like the very pillars of the Parthenon.

It is only natural to be compelled by such a marvel of nature, hence why he initially imagined himself being likewise compelled by others with the body of Adonis – those with figures grand and chiseled enough to have a statue bearing their name.

His error of judgment, however, manifests itself the day he meets a boy with a body far more graceful than any artist could carve out of something as rough and jagged as stone.

It manifests itself in a boy with a body the likes of Aphrodite, with a lithe yet ample kind of strength – one that when gazed upon simply declares: _you couldn’t lay a hand on me if you tried._

Rensuke takes it upon himself to prove his declaration wrong.

Aphrodite has a name and it’s Chigiri Hyouma. He doesn’t learn it from the boy himself; he seems far too reserved to be making any kind of small talk. He learns it from their displayed rankings, instead.

_…  
266 - Kunigami Rensuke  
267 - Chigiri Hyouma  
…_

He wouldn’t be able to tell that the name under his belonged to the boy in question if it weren’t for the crude drawing placed next to it. It seems that Blue Lock really doesn’t hold out on any of the small details.

_Chigiri Hyouma,_ he thinks. _He’s only one rank below me._

He supposes Chigiri has a similar thought cross his mind, seeing as their eyes meet after having sought each other out in the crowded canteen. Bright orange and pink lock on each other, even if just for a brief moment, and all other colors around him momentarily fade to shades of gray.

Chigiri averts his gaze after a tenth of a second.

Rensuke continues to stare.

Chigiri looks back up, reluctantly.

Rensuke quirks a smile. It’s neither kind nor menacing. He leaves it up to Chigiri’s interpretation.

But the boy just scoffs and looks back down at his stir-fried vegetables, though Rensuke can tell that he’s still paying attention to him in his peripherals. It’s only natural.

Somehow, his resolve manages to increase tenfold.

It’s curious– how certain bodies gravitate toward each other. Just as Rensuke found himself attracted to Chigiri, he notices how the latter doesn’t make as much as an effort to shy away from him as he does with the others.

They normally don’t shower at the same time, but if they do, he picks the stall closer to Rensuke. Though it’s not as if he’s looking in his direction.

He can just feel Chigiri looking in his.

(He idly wonders if the subject of his goal is starting to lead him closer to it.)

The first time he sees Chigiri run, like really, _really_ run, he thinks it’s a trick of the light. The sun in his eyes. The glare of the reflective black on his jersey. One cannot simply dash across a field in the same manner that a lightning bolt strikes from the sky, in a flash so bright that it outshines out any and all other movement on the field. But Rensuke witnesses it in real time; there is no room for slow-motion dramatics where Chigiri is involved – not when he's kicking up green with every step.

He sprints toward his striking zone so fast that it forces Rensuke stop dead in his tracks. And when Chigiri kicks the ball into the goal, he does it with the same graceful composure he has when braiding his hair. It’s brilliant. It’s blinding. Rensuke can feel his heart beating faster than it ever has before.

Electric pink eyes meet his own from fifteen meters away and thunder claps through the arena in the form of shouts, cries, screams.

Rensuke understands now – what it's like to be in the presence of god.

He drops to his knees and prays.

Rensuke doesn’t think he’s ever felt more exhausted in his life than how he feels presently – standing in the showers after completing the tenth day of Blue Lock's mandatory physical training. It’s the evening before the second selection begins, and he reckons he’ll have considerable trouble getting up in the morning to face it head-on.

Every limb he has is sore. Every muscle in his body aches. Only sheer willpower and maybe the soles of his feet are what keep him standing upright and not collapsing onto the wet tile floor. It’s a damn miracle. The cold water from the showerhead turns to steam after making contact with his boiling hot skin. It’s euphoric.

He subtly glances over his shoulder to see Chigiri showering in the stall to his right. He’s been there more often than not, lately.

His glance becomes less than subtle as he watches Chigiri struggle when lifting his hands to wash his hair. He looks frustrated. Chigiri bows his head, trying to access it with as little arm movement possible, but flinches at the attempt. Rensuke finds himself flinching, too, just by watching him. The offer is out of his mouth before he’s even able to process it.

“Need help?”

Chigiri sighs, defeated. “Would you?”

“Yea, yea, sure,” he replies, and suddenly he’s crossing from his shower stall into Chigiri’s, trying to downplay the strangeness of the act.

They’re both very naked. Such is the nature of taking a shower. Chigiri doesn’t seem to mind much as he squirts a dollop of shampoo into the cup of Rensuke’s palm. Rensuke mentally wills himself to take on that same attitude. He lathers the shampoo between his hands until it’s bright white and bubbly.

“Not used to so much exertion, huh?” He asks, threading soapy fingers through Chigiri’s hair. He finds that he doesn’t have to reach up very far for the task. Chigiri must be a good ten or so centimeters shorter than him. He files that information elsewhere than the forefront of his mind.

“Mm,” Chigiri affirms. “All those bench presses really tore up the muscles in my chest. I can barely high-five anyone, let alone shower comfortably.”

Rensuke is well-acquainted with that feeling. “No pain, no gain,” he states offhandedly.

Chigiri huffs. “Of course a guy like you would say that.”

“You peg me as the gym rat-type, then?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yea, yea, kinda,” he concedes. At this point there are multiple trails of shampoo running down his forearms and down the line of Chigiri’s back. The cleaner his hair gets, though, the easier it is to knead through. It helps that it's also devastatingly soft, much like the fibers of raw silk. “There’s no such thing as a world-class striker who isn’t at the top of his game.”

“How about me?” Chigiri poses.

“How about you,” Rensuke repeats. He hopes he’s not getting any shampoo in his eyes.

“Do I have the physique of a world-class striker, to you?”

Chigiri reaches up to take hold of Rensuke’s wrist– the one that had previously been massaging his scalp clean. He turns to face him directly and Rensuke is then presented with everything he needs to answer his question.

Chigiri tilts his head, waiting.

Rensuke takes in a breath.

“So you _can_ move your arms.”

It takes all the restraint in his body to maintain nothing but eye contact with Chigiri, whose gaze is trained on him in a way Rensuke can only liken to how a fox hones in on its prey. They’re close enough so that he can feel Chigiri’s breath hot on his collarbone.

“Oops,” he says, but the clouded look in his eyes doesn’t make him seem very apologetic at all.

Later that night, after a series of events that he couldn't have ever predicted would transpire during his time at Blue Lock, Rensuke wonders how Chigiri’s hair always smells of strawberries when they’re all issued the same generic, spearmint conditioner. Then he remembers that the cream he uses on his knee sometimes emanates a faint, sweet smell in the evening when he lathers it on. Perhaps that is somehow the culprit behind the fields of strawberry growing in the curve of his neck.

“Strawberries?” Chigiri parrots.

Rensuke nods, but he’s not sure if Chigiri is able to see it in the near pitch-black room.

“Hmm," he hears Chigiri hum, alongside the sound of him rolling over in his futon to face him. Their bedding is directly beside each other, because of course it is. “You’re not just saying that because my hair’s pink, are you?”

“Nah, I’m being serious,” he whispers, though he’s sure Chigiri’s quiet giggling and the half-aborted efforts to muffle them into his pillow has awoken half the team by now.

“Perhaps it’s just my natural scent, then,” he muses. “I find that most people have some sort of distinct smell to them.”

“Yeah? What’s my ‘ _natural scent_ ’, then?”

“Oranges,” Chigiri answers.

“You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Mm, yeah, I am,” and he laughs again, coyly.

Rensuke feels high. He takes a deep breath. It’s about as sobering as a shot of straight espresso. “You don’t have to stay up late waiting for me, you know?”

“Who says it’s for you? Typical self-centered striker.”

Rensuke grins. “Pardon me, I just figured princesses like yourself needed their beauty sleep.”

He hears Chigiri scoff a little too loudly, so he moves his hand to cover what he hopes is his mouth. He is evidently not good at guessing where that is.

“Do you enjoy dragging your hand across my face?”

“Shh,” Rensuke hushes. He feels long eyelashes flutter closed beneath his palm.

“And now I can’t see. Is this some kind of BDSM th–”

Rensuke decides to shut him up in the most efficient way he knows how. Though he does feel more than hear Chigiri protest softly against his lips, he considers it a win nonetheless.

The first stage of the second selection is a breeze. His only regret is not going for it sooner, like Isagi or Bachira, the overzealous bastards.

His thoughts are interrupted upon realizing that he’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to do now, after being thrust into a room full of people he’s never met, searching for someone – _anyone_ – that he can recognize. One with reddish-pink hair would be ideal, but–

“Kunigami!”

He knows the voice before he sees its owner.

“Chigiri,” he calls back, relieved. “Good job on passing the first stage.”

“As for familiar faces, though…” he continues, “…There’s only you.”

Chigiri frowns. Rensuke notices that there’s considerably less sweat dripping down Chigiri’s face than there is on his thoroughly drenched self. He shouldn’t be allowed to look composed – and still so fucking _pretty –_ after all that cardio.

“Nah, I asked the folks around and it seems like they’ve already went.”

Rensuke quirks an eyebrow. _They?_

“Isagi, Bachira… And Nagi,” he clarifies.

_Well, that’s one hell of a trio,_ Rensuke thinks. _I should’ve known they’d team up on their own. They’d be stupid not to._

“Hah!” He exclaims, deciding to focus only on what concerns himself. “Leaving me behind, huh? Those three really get on my nerves…”

“Yup,” Chigiri drones. “I thought the same.”

Rensuke nods, and his head spins as he does – the cruel aftermath of making one-hundred goals in just eighty-six minutes and seventeen seconds.

“So, Kunigami,” Chigiri continues. “I’ve got one suggestion.”

“Yeah, Chigiri,” Rensuke acknowledges. “I probably just had the same idea.”

And it’s beyond satisfying – seeing the fire in your own eyes reflected brilliantly, like molten lava, in the eyes of another.

“Let’s team up.”

Rooming with just Chigiri and Reo is strange, to say the least. It’s not like Mikage Reo is a cockblock, by any means.

(But it’s not like he isn’t, either.)  
  
“Ooh. Bunk beds. Fun,” Reo announces, as soon as all three of them step into their new living quarters for the first time. “But before either of you try anything, I call the single bed.”  
  
Rensuke shrugs. “Yeah, go ahead."  
  
“Fine by me,” Chigiri agrees.  
  
Reo narrows his eyes at the pair of them. “What, the hero over here isn’t gonna put up a fight? Princess doesn’t want to claim it all for herself?”  
  
“Nah, it’s all yours,” Rensuke reiterates.  
  
Reo looks at him even more skeptically, then turns to Chigiri. “And you? Too worried the pea under the mattress is gonna bother you too much?  
  
Chigiri brushes off Reo’s weak attempts to provoke him. “I, for one, think sleeping on the top bunk is rather fun,” he so blatantly lies.  
  
“Seems like royalty needs a tall throne,” Rensuke murmurs. Chigiri jabs him in the side.  
  
Reo looks like he wants to protest some more, but the reality of him getting what he wants out of the situation is likely what shuts him up. “Okay. Well. That’s settled, then.”  
  
Rensuke and Chigiri simultaneously hum in agreement.  
  
(Only a few bed squeaks can be heard in the early morning when Chigiri climbs the ladder back up to the top bunk. Rensuke is quick to miss the warmth that was previously laid beside him, even despite all the strawberry hair that had accumulated in his mouth overnight.  
  
If he inhales into his pillow deep enough, he can still smell traces of it that linger there. It’s effectively what puts him to sleep – for the remaining hour and a half he’ll have of it, that is.)

When the time finally comes to face off against Isagi, Bachira, and Nagi, Rensuke feels nothing but pure adrenaline course through his veins. Those three monsters certainly make for a good team.

But he’s confident that they’ll kneel in the wake of gods like themselves.

“Hey, Chigiri.”

“Hm?”

“Do heroes…” Rensuke starts, before turning to face him, “…Always feel this excited?”

Chigiri doesn’t miss a beat. “Isn’t that just because you’re teamed up with me?” He quips. “Such an insensitive hero.”

Rensuke cracks a grin. “We’re gonna win this, Chigiri.”

Chigiri returns his gaze, smiling back. “Of course, Kunigami.”

“I’ll carry you through the whole match.”

At the end of ninety minutes, Rensuke learns what every classical literature teacher has failed to teach him.

Parting, once you experience it first-hand, really is such sweet sorrow.

Rensuke can still smell the strawberries in the air as Chigiri’s figure steps away from their team and marches toward the enemy– intertwining himself within their ranks. He doesn’t look back, not once, but there’s a pronounced hesitance in his step. A few rosy locks of hair blow over his shoulder.

He then speaks directly to Rensuke. It’s a promise.

_I’ll be waiting for you_ , he says, in a way, though the words are bracketed with the vengeance they both crave. _You and me. Maybe not today, but together, we… We can take down a monster or two._

Rensuke clenches his fist as he watches Chigiri make a place for himself beside Isagi. The sight makes him seethe.

_I’ll come to you. I’ll get you back. You’ll be the one I face in the end_ , he all but says.

_I’ll prove to you that you’re mine._

**Author's Note:**

> hooh this is so far the raciest thing i've written/posted here... my unhealthy attraction to chigiri hyouma really jumped out in this one but alas. i am only human . 
> 
> I hope you liked this! and if ya did let me know! the fandom needs some more content as do kunigiri themselves (kaneshiro & nomura reunite them challenge 😠)
> 
> twitter: [ glocksgenya](https://twitter.com/glocksgenya)  
> tumblr: [ tatakaedrey](https://tatakaedrey.tumblr.com/)


End file.
